


Accidents Happen

by BloodyCreaturePosterGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6306103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyCreaturePosterGirl/pseuds/BloodyCreaturePosterGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Imagine training with Dean when he accidentally hurts you and imagine the gentleness of his hands as they caress you, his hands lethal when on a Hunt, but with you, he’s the exact opposite.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidents Happen

**Author's Note:**

> The moment I started this it got away from me lol never the less, I think it works for the prompt. Again, willing to take requests, but please be patient with me if you do. Only have internet one day of the week! (It's depressing as it also means I have no way of watching Supernatural, meaning I have NOT see season 11 nor have I finished 10)

“Dean,” you whine for what must have been the fifteenth time in the last ten minutes. “Please?”   
“If I agree, will you stop pesterin’ me?” The elder Winchester brother asks, an eyebrow raised in your direction.   
“Yes!”   
You had been trying to get Dean to train with you since you started tagging along with the brothers on Hunts, but he had yet to agree to it. He said you were too soft to train with him and no matter how many times you tried to convince him that you were perfectly capable of holding your own against him he still turned you down.   
You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t train with you when Sam had no problems. If fact, Sam rather enjoyed your time training together, teaching tips and tricks whenever he could. He was acting like a big brother and you found it endearing, adoring the younger Winchester all the more. Sam was such a sweetheart… and didn’t think you were too soft.   
One after noon, after being shot down again, you had complained to Sam in frustration. Sam only smiled and allowed you to vent as the two of you spared, more circling one another as you talked than actually training.   
“But why won’t he train with me, Sammy? Haven’t I proven myself time again that I’m a capable Hunter?”   
“You’re a very capable Hunter,” Sammy agreed.   
“Is it because I’m small?” you ask, shoulders slumping.   
“What?” Sam laughed.  
“Well…I’m so much shorter than either of you. Dean is a good nine inches taller than me, maybe he’s thinks I can’t handle him the height difference.”   
“Definitely not it,” Sam says with a shake of his head.   
“I’m vertically challenged,” you pout and Sam nearly trips over his own feet, head tipping back as he laughs boisterously.   
“Be that as it may,” Sam says with a wink. “You’re height actually gives you an advantage over us. You can dodge our attacks better, and less body mass makes your quicker.”   
“Then why!” you grumbled, tackling Sam out of annoyance and throwing the bigger Winchester off balance and to the ground with a thud.   
“He’s afraid he’ll hurt you.”   
“He… what?” the idea of Dean being afraid of anything when it came to you seemed silly. Half the time he didn’t even seem to care and Sam was trying to convince you Dean was afraid of hurting you? Yeah right, nice try Sammy, you thought with a roll of your eyes.   
You could hardly call Dean Winchester your friend, and not because you hadn’t tried. He didn’t seem to mind you being in the bunker as he had yet to toss you out, nor had he complained when Sammy suggested you come stay with them for a while after going on a few Hunters with you. What you could say about Dean Winchester was he was the sexiest man you had ever had the pleasure of spending time with and somehow you had developed a ridiculously massive crush on him. It wasn’t like he gave you the cold shoulder or anything, he just kept you at a comparatively…unfriendly distance compared to Sam.   
“He’s afraid he’ll hurt you,” Sam repeated, sitting up on his on his elbows and you had yet to move off.   
“I doubt that,” said with a roll of your eyes.   
“Don’t be so upset by it, or don’t you like training with me?” Sam mock pouted.   
You smiled and playfully punched his shoulder. “I’m not upset.”   
“Right, and you’re totally not in love with my brother,” Sam said in a sing song voice, nudging you off and pulling you to your feet once he made his way to his.   
“I am not!” you nearly shriek.   
“You totally are.”  
“Am not!”  
“Are so.”  
“Am not!”  
“How long do you plan to deny it?”   
“I’m not in love with him!”   
“So you aren’t going to just admit it now?”   
“No!”  
“By acknowledging that you are not going to admit it you are, in fact, admitting to it,” Sam smiled.   
“I’m not admitting to anything!”   
“You just admit to being in love with Dean.”   
“I’m not,” you snap with a childish stomp of your foot.   
“You forget that I’m your best friend and I have seen the way you look at my brother.”   
“I’m… not in love with him,” your resolve was fading quickly at the knowing look Sam was giving you. Would it be so bad to tell Sammy how you felt? Its not like he would just run off and tell Dean. You weren’t teenagers anymore and Sam respected you too much to break your trust in him over such a silly thing.   
“Are you done lying to me,” he asked, arms crossed over his chest.   
“…He doesn’t know, does he? That isn’t way he avoids me, is it?” you concede.   
“Dean is completely oblivious.”   
Sam, being the ever wonderful friend that he is, dropped the conversation after that and only brought it up when the two of you were alone. Not that he hadn’t given you suggestive looks or comments in the presence of Dean, who continued to be oblivious to the situation. Only ever commenting about how close the two of you had become in your time with them in the bunker.   
You had distanced yourself from Dean after your confession all with Sam until this morning when he asked if everything was alright because you seemed a bit distant. Your cheeks flushing with color you panicked, hurriedly telling him that everything was fine and changing the topic, asking if he would train with you.   
Rubbing a tired hand over his face Dean sighed but agreed.   
“Really?” you ask excitedly, bouncing up out of your seat.   
“Sure, if it’ll get cha to stop actin’ weird,” he said.   
You ignored his comment and bounced out of the room, headed straight for the gym, a beaming grin across your face. You bumped into Sam, who was headed out of the gym, as you pulled open the door.   
“Oh! Hi Sammy,” you grin up at the younger Winchester.   
“Uh… hey,” he said, eyes narrowing. “What’s got you so excited?”   
“Dean agreed to train with me!” you can’t help but blurt, your grin spreading wider across your face.   
“Really?” Sam asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.   
“Yup!” you chirp, bouncing on the balls of your feet.   
Sam’s eyes lifted to look beyond you down the hallway, a smirk appearing on his adorable face. “Dean going to teach you a few new things?”   
Sam’s tone was utterly suggestive, but you ignored it, giving the taller Winchester a little shove to get him out of the doorway. “I certainly hope so; I’m always up for learning new things.”   
“Going to teach her anything she can use on me?” Sammy asked Dean whom has appeared in the doorway a moment later. You missed the wink Sam sent his grumbling big brother.   
Dean punched Sammy in the shoulder not so gently while your back was still turned. Sam scowled at Dean in return, rubbing at his shoulder.   
“Don’t hurt her, Dean,” Sammy said as a retort. “She’s our precious little Y/N.”   
“Way to make yourselves sound like an adorable gay couple,” Y/N chuckled.   
“I’m not gay,” Dean growled.   
“Oh honey, you don’t have to tell us,” Y/N snorted.   
“What’s that supposed to mean?”   
“Well… you are a bit of a man whore.”  
“I am not,” Dean growled defensively.   
“Right, and you really go to the bars for your knitting group’s all-nighters; those sweaters aren’t going to finish themselves. Shame on you for allowing those poor old women to drink so much tea before their bedtimes,” you shot back sarcastically.   
From the hallway you can hear Sam howling with laughter and could not help the grin that cracks the scowl you had so well crafted in place. You lived and worked with the Winchester brothers, you needed to have a mean scowl when the time called for it.   
For a moment Dean actually managed to look ashamed. “I haven’t been to the bar in months.”   
No, he hadn’t, but you also didn’t want to dwell on it for too long.   
“Can we just get started?” you ask.   
“Alright,” Dean’s head bobbed in agreement. “Come at me with that knife.” He motioned to the hunting knife strapped to your thigh.   
You did as you were told without complaint, yanking the blade from its resting place to twirl it about your fingers.  
“Quick is good.” Dean praised, motioning for you to come to him, but Dean was quicker, and the moment you were within reach his fingers wrapped around your wrist and twisted just enough to make you let the blade go, not enough to really hurt.   
“Now try taking it back, same way I just took it,” he ordered.   
Surprisingly enough you managed to take it back with the first attempt.   
Dean held his hand out for the knife. “Very good. Try it again.”   
Again you attempted to take the knife from him except this time he turned the tables on you, snatching up your wrist with his other hand and yanking your body around. You stumbled as your body spun, back colliding with Dean’s chest, his arms caging you to him. One wrapped nearly crushingly under your breasts, and the other held the knife pressed tight to the side of your throat.   
Still thrown off by the momentum of Dean yanking you into him your body bowed forward against his hold, breath hissing out as the knife bit into the tender flesh of your neck.   
“Shit,” Dean cursed behind you. he instantly let go, tossing your knife to slide across the floor and away from you, forgotten as he, far most carefully this time, spun you back around to face him. One big hand cupped the curve of your shoulder while the other gently fisted, tipping your chin up so that he could better inspect the cut.   
Dean wordlessly pulled out from the gym and lead you into the bathroom, instructing you to take a seat on the counter while he fished out a first aid kit.   
“It’s just a scratch,” you say softly, still following his instructions anyway.   
He said nothing as he set the first aid next to you, patting the inside of your knee to get you to make room for him. Without even thinking about it your legs parted for him, allowing him to step into your personal space, hips nearly meeting with how close he stood. His beautiful green eyes were glued to the nick in your skin, his fingers tipping your head back again.   
Instead of letting your head fall back, you wrapped your smaller hand around his wrist, drawing his green eyes to yours. “I can do it myself.”   
“Let me,” His voice was gruff and something in his beautiful eyes told you he needed to do this, for himself.   
Your features softened, your lips forming a smile as you tipped your head back for him without another word. Sammy had been right. Dean was afraid of hurting you and whether you considered it worthy of attention or not, he needed to fix it to let himself know you were okay.   
“Can I?” You know without looking that Dean was asking to take your flannel off and rolled your shoulders as he pushed the soft fabric off. You felt Dean’s fingers pause against your skin as the roll of your shoulder let the strap of your tank top and bra slide down. You wanted to tease him for freezing up at but then it dawned on your that Dean always froze up when you showed any amount of skin.   
Your bare shoulders when you wore just a tank top, the baring of your tummy when your shirt rode up, hell you thought he was going to have a heart attack one morning when you greeted the boys in just an oversized shirt. Was Dean attracted to you?   
Wait… were you the reason Dean hadn’t been going to the bars?   
No, you thought to yourself fiercely. Dean had never had a problem admitting attraction to anyone before, why would you be any different?   
You hissed suddenly at the contact of a cotton-swab of peroxide to your cut, thankful Dean had no way of knowing where your thoughts had wandered off to. it was embarrassing enough to, even for a moment, think that Dean’s strange behavior was because he had feelings for you. It was so outrageous that you nearly laughed aloud at the bitter taste his disinterest left behind.   
“Y/N?” Dean murmured, his big hands were cupping your cheeks and tipping your head so that your eyes met, concern written across his handsome features.   
“I’m okay,” you try to smile.   
Dean’s thumb sweeps under your lower lashes to catch a tear you didn’t even know had welled up and spilled over.   
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes not leaving yours, your face still cupped in his warm hands.   
“I’ve had worse,” you joke softly, but this causes Dean to flinch.   
“Dean?”  
Dean pulled your face to his, foreheads pressed together. His lashes fall closed and his breath fanned over your lips as he sighed. He was beginning to worry you with how soft he was being. But then, hadn’t Dean anyways been soft with you?   
Dean Winchester was a well known Hunter, he was badass and feared. He was rough and sexy, lethal with just about anything you gave him and yet… here he was cupping your face like you might break. His touch soft and sweet and so warm.   
Dean mumbled your name a heartbeat before his lips met yours in the sweetest kiss you ever experienced.


End file.
